


Lone Wolffe

by Gobayern16



Series: Star Wars Whumptober 2020 [9]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clone Troopers - Freeform, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Podfic Welcome, Ritual Pyre, Ritual Sacrifice, Whump, Whumptober 2020, burning at the stake, can be read as platonic, wolfpack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gobayern16/pseuds/Gobayern16
Summary: “As our flesh returns to and strengthens the land, so may his flesh return to and strengthen you!”The priestess accepts a lit torch from her assistant, lifts it high.Terror sinks its claws into Wolffe, grips tight and twists.“Hear us Heavenly Spirits! Accept our offering!” She makes victorious eye contact with Wolffe and drops the torch. Flames flare immediately, devouring the wood.Wolffe howls, thrashing in his bonds.
Relationships: Boost & Comet & Sinker & CC-3636 | Wolffe, Boost/Comet/Sinker/CC-3636 | Wolffe
Series: Star Wars Whumptober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948018
Comments: 1
Kudos: 60
Collections: Commander Wolffe Stuff





	Lone Wolffe

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Whumptober Prompt #9: For the greater good - Ritual Sacrifice  
> Thank you to the wonderful Shira for the ritual speech ideas and RogueLadyVader for beta-ing!

"Oh Heavenly Spirits! Help us! Help us cleanse our land!”

The priestess’s cry rings through the plaza, echoed back by a hundred voices. "Help us Heavenly Spirits!"

The priestess motions to her assistant to bring forth the cleansing potion. She takes the bowl, lifting it in supplication to the sky.

"Behold! With this I will mark the sickness invading our home! Use it as your guide to burn away the darkness!"

"Cleanse the land! Cleanse the land!" The chanting turns manic, people stomping their feet, a thundering rhythm filling the plaza.

The priestess lowers the bowl, turning towards the center of the plaza and the figure bound there.

Wolffe meets her fervent stare head-on, fighting to keep the fear and panic off his face. He's been stripped of his armor and blacks, clad only in his undershorts. Coarse rope bites into his wrists and ankles, digs into his throat, binding him to the post at his back. The stench of accelerant clogs his nostrils, doused wood stacked around him.

The priestess approaches, eyes wide, pupils blown. Wolffe tenses, dread spiking. She dips her fingers, brings her hand to Wolffe’s cybernetic eye. Wolffe jerks his head back, snarling threats through his gag. But the priestess ignores him, painting the first symbol over his hastily closed eye. 

“Our enemies are made of the same material as this false eye! Know it and know them!”

Wolffe pants, adrenaline surging, eyes roving the plaza for any sign of help. But all he sees is the frenzied crowd. 

His attention snaps back to the priestess as she paints a second mark on his chest, over his heart.

“This warrior pours his blood and spirit into battling our enemies! Use it and defeat them!”

A third and final mark, low on his abdomen.

“As our flesh returns to and strengthens the land, so may his flesh return to and strengthen you!”

The priestess accepts a lit torch from her assistant, lifts it high.

Terror sinks its claws into Wolffe, grips tight and _twists_.

“Hear us Heavenly Spirits! Accept our offering!” She makes victorious eye contact with Wolffe and drops the torch. Flames flare immediately, devouring the wood.

Wolffe howls, thrashing against his bonds. Terror and panic drown him. He doesn’t want to die! But no matter how much he _twists_ and _yanks_ he can’t get _free_ \-- he can’t _move_ \-- there’s _smoke_ and _fire_ swallowing him -- he’s _suffocating_ \--

“WOLFFE!”

He jerks awake, gasping for hair, heart pounding. Hands hold him down, and he cries out, blindly trying to push them off.

“Wolffe! Wolffe, it’s okay! You’re safe! Kriff!”

 _SMACK!_

Wolffe stills in shock, cheek tingling. He blinks, clearing panic and sleep from his eyes. Familiar durasteel walls come into focus. 

Heart still pounding and soaked in sweat, he glances around. Three identical looks of sharp concern and worry greet him.

“Alright, Wolffe?” Sinker asks quietly, hovering just out of striking distance.

“Yeah.” Wolffe winces at the roughness of his throat. It feels like he gargled razor blades.

“You were screaming,” Comet murmurs. “It’s why it took so long to wake you. You couldn’t hear us.”

“And the slap?” Wolffe questions gruffly. Boost raises his hand unapologetically.

“You weren’t listening, didn’t realize where you were.” He regards Wolffe seriously. “Want to talk about it?”

Wolffe shivers, strips out of his soaked clothes and into a fresh set of blacks, courtesy of Comet. The others wait patiently, wait for him to gather himself. He settles back down, Comet curling into his side. Sinker moves to Wolffe’s other side, pushing him further towards Comet so Sinker can curl around him. Boost drapes himself over their legs, peering up at Wolffe.

Wolffe sighs, safe in his Pack’s embrace.

“It was the mission on Jorsten IV.” He clears his throat. “Except you didn’t find me in time.”

“Oh Wolffe…” Sinker hugs him tight, Comet pressing himself as close as possible. Wolffe shudders, breath hitching. He buries his face in Comet’s hair, soaking up his Pack’s love and reassurance. Boost voices what they’re all thinking. 

“We found you, Wolffe. We’ll always find you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos greatly appreciated. :)
> 
>  **Permissions:** All my works, including this one, can be translated and podficced without first asking my express permission. I ask only that you credit me as the original author and provide a link back to the original work. For anything else, please ask first. Thanks.


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